Tanza (35 page)

‘The likes of which I have never defeated…’ she said, referring to this last kind. The crushing of her throat came unbidden to her mind. It was only thanks to her Sleffion-kin Reen that she had survived at all. And now he was dead.

I winced at her terrible pain. She squeezed me from behind. Realising our concentration had lapsed, Jaalta made an effort to hold in her grief. I refocused on the line of Zeikas.

On the rocks before them was a towering black being with a man-like torso, bear-like head with long pointed red horns, a lupine tail, grasping black claws and hoofed feet. A mane of liquid black fell in a straight line down the back of its neck, travelling all the way to the tip of its tail.

Other Zeikas nearby bent prostrate before the demon, worshipping it. The summoners, however, remained seated on their litters, idly playing with fireballs on their fingertips. They seemed to be watching the summoned creature as a strict parent might watch a child, just waiting for it to do something wrong.

The demon’s breathing was audible even from this distance. It nearly matched Ciera in height, and enormous bulbous muscles were visible along its chest, arms and legs.

‘Gather the Anzaii together,’ Amadeus instructed me.

I contacted them one by one to let them know we needed to regroup. It seemed to take an eternity to free them all up from the battles they were engaged in, even though it was only about fifteen minutes. Of the eleven Anzaii I had set out with, nine remained alive. The guardians had suffered far heavier losses, but in total I counted about forty in the strike force.

The demon advanced on the field of battle looking left and right and snorting its tiny, flat nostrils. Because of its uniform black colour, it was difficult to discern exactly what it was doing from a distance.

The Tanzan ground troops fled, looking to us for support. This was what the strike force had been held back from battle for. Only we could stand against such a creature.

The demon chased the ground troops, snatching-up people and skyearls with ease and breaking them over its knees. Bodies were spread in its wake. None moved again.

‘Anzaii to us!’ Jaalta called through the waves. In one deafening wave-shout she was able to reach them all. Amazing! I revelled.

All of the skyearls bearing Anzaii formed up beside us. Some of them hadn’t been part of the strike force, but were joining us now.

‘We hold two Anzaii artefacts,’ Jaalta declared to them all. ‘As with the Ancient Sapphire Tree in the Dome of Gathering, we can use them to augment our effects on the waves.’

‘For the win!’ Ciera roared.

His arm was hurting badly due to the strain of flying, but he was confident nonetheless.

As we started to descend on the creature, hundreds of dragons swarmed upon us. Ciera narrowly avoided the demon’s sweeping claws, spiralling down past it and snapping at one leg. His teeth barely grazed the demon’s flesh before we were lurching wildly upwards, the ground just a few paces away. I shot a Zeika on the back of his dragon with the crossbow. Three more filled his space, striking at Jaalta and I with spears and firing poisoned arrows.

Just when it seemed the strike force would be overwhelmed, four squadrons of spear-skyearls converged on our position. Winged bodies smashed together overhead and beneath us.

The sounds and smells of violence and death overwhelmed me, both in the waves and in the natural world. The demon rampaged below us, slaying all within its reach easily. Whenever I tried to focus on it, even using the Jarian belt, it slid away through the waves like oil.

Tyba and Amadeus would be dismayed by the destruction the black demon was visiting upon their ground troops. I have to stop it.

‘Get them out of there,’ Amadeus relayed to the squadron leader on the ground.

‘What can we do to it in the waves?’ I struggled to ask Tiaro and Jaalta.

‘It should be much the same as dealing with a conjuration,’ Tiaro said, ‘except this creature has a soul and will fight back in the waves.’

I cringed; dispelling or taking control of conjurations was difficult enough. Now we would have a fully summoned demon fighting against us in the real world and in the waves.

‘Remember that it is Krii who fights for us,’ Tiaro said.

‘That’s right,’ Jaalta replied, touching Galtoro, her own Anzaiikin. The Centan shield was fastened to her leg so it couldn’t fall or be dropped.

‘Ciera,’ I called through the waves, ‘fly us closer to the demon so we can try to dispel it.’

He tried, but every time we got close, more dragons would drive us back. The demon itself ignored us. It seemed intent on killing as many ordinary warriors and skyearls as it could. Like me, the rest of the skyearl-mounted Anzaii could not get close to it. After dozens of unsuccessful passes, I lead the strike force north east away from the battle. Feelings of shock and abandonment rose off the Tanzans who were fleeing below us.

‘We will come back,’ Jaalta reassured them collectively. ‘But we can’t get close enough to the demon while on the backs of our skyearls. The dragons are all over us. We will have to approach it on foot and hope the Zeikas do not recognise us.’

It wasn’t possible for the humans to reply to Jaalta’s broadwave, but with so many kin about we soon got impressions of how the Defender warriors were feeling. They were afraid, but steadfast. Most of them showed overwhelming support towards Jaalta—for the first time in most of their lives, an Anzaii could communicate with them en masse. It brought a sudden leap forward in the way the army was run and I knew that Jaalta must be protected at all costs. Tyba clearly thought so too, for he had personally instructed our guardians not to stray from us.

I connected with the squadron leader coordinating the retreat, a Sleffion Tolite woman named Avinel. She demanded, ‘Have you taken leave of your senses, Astor? Approach it on foot?’

‘We have to try,’ I responded.

‘Don’t get yourselves killed,’ Avinel responded. ‘We need you.’

I broke contact with her, wondering if Ciera and I should deposit Jaalta out of harm’s way before attempting to fight the demon.

‘We need her,’ Tiaro said.

‘But Tyba needs her more,’ I argued. ‘To coordinate this battle. Look at all the guards he’s sent with us—’

‘It is your life that Tyba guards so carefully as well.’

‘I cannot wave-speak other humans en masse,’ I replied, including Jaalta in my waves, ‘even with the help of the artefacts. I don’t know how Jaalta is doing it.’

‘I have read about broadwaving in scrolls by the Anzaii of old,’ my aunt told me. ‘It requires you to turn everything you’ve ever learned about the waves on its head. Instead of targeting one or a few of your trusted kin, you send it out like a ripple in a pond for anyone listening to hear.’

I shook my head when I was still not able to do it.

‘There is time to learn,’ Jaalta said. ‘I will lend you my scrolls.’

I made no reply. Reading was just about the last thing I could imagine myself doing any time soon.

Chapter Twenty-five—A spiritual battle

C
iera lead the strike force straight back to the base of one of the karst towers. He circled down and landed on a naturally-formed ledge that was ringed with windswept bushes and red flowers. It took a few minutes for all the humans and their kin to be deposited near the respite tent. Several of us were treated for minor injuries. Jaalta’s wounds, from her time in the Zeika encampment, were carefully inspected and rewrapped. A skin of water was thrust into my hand and I drained it.

I looked around, hoping to see a friendly face nearby, but everyone was preoccupied. I wished, again, that Sarlice and Rekala were by my side, not only for their support and company, but just so I knew they were well. I could spare no strength to spy them out on the waves just now. I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach that the current battle at Everstain would be Lantaid’s last.

Taking a moment to look for Tyba’s presence in the waves, I found him fighting hand-to-hand with two Zeikas. A group of tyraks must have landed on the shelf halfway up the karst tower where he and his lieutenants were coordinating the battle. He duel-wielded two shortswords, darting and ducking so quickly that the image in my mind blurred.

A conjured deathhawk sailed towards him, fangs bared. Krii, No! I stretched out my hand, sending my thoughts like a bolt in the direction of the monster. The Jarian belt gave me a boost—shooting my awareness into the creature, I commanded it to be gone.

Tyba finished off the two Zeikas and saluted at the air, not knowing which Anzaii had saved him.

‘It was me,’ I told him. ‘Sire, I presume you heard that the strike force will run down through the woods and approach the demon on foot?’

‘Yes,’ Tyba replied. ‘But it is good to tell me directly just in case.’

He was breathing hard and a cut down the left side of his back drenched him in acid rain.

‘Your position has been compromised there,’ I observed. ‘You won’t be able to coordinate the battle if you are injured or worse.’

Tyba only grumbled in reply, knowing I was right. If the prince was badly hurt during the battle, his lieutenants would continue in his stead, but none of us wanted that to happen. For the sake of our prince, who was competent and well-loved, and because it would be a devastating blow to morale.

Because I was still connected to his mind, I sensed Tyba master his desire to fight his enemies in person. It wasn’t out of malice that he thirsted for combat, but out of a deep sense of loyalty for his people. How could he send others into such danger if he wasn’t prepared to face the enemy himself?

‘I understand how you feel,’ I said. ‘But you are far more valuable to all of us if you are able to coordinate the Defenders from a safe location.’

‘Much like you having to hide up in the clouds dispelling,’ he commented. ‘I know, Talon. You don’t have to counsel me about the big picture of a war. I’ve grown up with strategy and battle. Defence is in my blood. Now get out of my thoughts so I can choose a new vantage point.’

The Anzaii strike force gathered around me near the healing tent. Red flowers nodded in the breeze behind them, adding to the feeling of urgency. It was time to face the demon.

‘Let’s go,’ Jaalta said. ‘You will have to be the voice for both of us. Without the Sleffion-kin with us, we should communicate aloud.’

‘But you can wave-speak to other people,’ I replied.

‘It is still difficult to target large groups. I can target a few individuals at once or I can send a broadwave—to everybody. But I cannot send targeted waves to the entire strike force without disturbing all others within the vicinity of the broadwave. I don’t want to cause that kind of distraction unless it is very important.’

I nodded. ‘I think I understand.’

I took five deep breaths, squashed the panic that was welling inside me, and shouted, ‘Strike force, listen up! We will walk to the battlefront. A line of guardians, then the Anzaii followed by another line of guardians. Form up as soon as we reach the woods on the ground.’

It felt strange to be giving orders, but a surge of calm filled me as the strike force came to attention. It was no time for misguided heroics. Thousands of people were depending on me.

Aunt Jaalta went first, leading me down the steep trail of the karst tower. We pushed past the dry, scrubby bushes clinging to the edge of the cliff and stepped down over rocks and logs. The Anzaii armour I was wearing felt hot and heavy.

As we came onto more level ground, we had to make our way between the silvery trees. Many more shrubs dotted the forest before the woodland.

Once inside the woodland, I gave the signal to spread out and form into the three lines I had specified. Aunt Jaalta and I stepped out in front of the first line with Amril and Jett by our sides. Jett gave me a salute when I looked his way. I smiled. My heart was pumping. I tried to tell myself it was only performance-anxiety. This was, after-all, my first command.

We moved forward through the forest, becoming interweaved with the three or four thousand Defender warriors who were still concealed there. Jaalta used the waves to communicate with Tyba and the captains and corporals in our area. The field in front of the woods could barely be seen through the trees, but I knew there were hundreds of small groups of Defenders out there, fighting valiantly. Since Tyba’s signal to fall back, they had made it nearly all the way back to the trees.

‘Tyba has ordered the main force to advance,’ Jaalta informed me.

As one, the rest of the army marched forward. Archers began firing as soon as they had a clear view of the field. The many thousands of Zeikas who were spread out at the top of the northern valley paused only for a moment. Their commanders appeared to be giving them orders to engage us. The first lines of the woodland squadrons ran forward. Within seconds, there was death and mayhem all around us.

I held my fist straight up in the air, holding the strike force back. There were still many lines of Defenders to come out of the woods. If we moved too soon, we’d never even make it to the demon. Instead we’d be caught up in the ground assault with the Zeikas.

‘Focus,’ Jaalta counselled me.

‘Focus,’ I repeated.

A booming sound came from the direction of the valley and a thundering-screech pierced the air. Over the lip of the valley came dozens of Tanzan warriors, tripping, falling, scrambling up and running again. The demon burst into view behind them, snatching up the stragglers and throwing them against rocks or pitching them over its shoulder. Occasionally it would bend to snap a Rada-kin in its jaws. The cacophony on the waves was incredible. It took most of my concentration to shield myself from it.

Tiaro hummed Halduronlei. I could sense Ciera and the strike force flying over the southern valley, carrying other humans instead of each skyearl’s Anzaii, as a decoy. The vast majority of dragons were now heading for that area, trying to take down what they thought was the Anzaii strike force. The ruse would not last long. Jaalta, who was connected with my thoughts, concurred.

‘Now!’ I shouted, throwing my arm down.